


Days Until Onodera Ritsu Falls in Love: XX

by EchoResonance



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Heavy Angst, M/M, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoResonance/pseuds/EchoResonance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When most people say "Over my cold, dead body," they don't mean it quite so literally</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Until Onodera Ritsu Falls in Love: XX

Isaka was waiting for Takano at the train station when he got off.

The moment Takano saw him, his stomach flipped. There was no good reason Isaka would go to the trouble of waiting for him at his station, none at all, and the look on his face when he spotted Takano in the crowd was all the confirmation the man needed that his suspicions were accurate.

“Isaka,” he said, shouldering people aside to reach the other man. “What the hell are you—?”

Isaka wasted no time on pleasantries, which may have been refreshing in any other scenario.

“It’s Onodera.”

An icy hand closed around Takano’s chest.

“I tried to call,” Isaka said. “But…”

But he’d been on the train. His phone had been off. Of course, of course, of all the rotten luck in the goddamn world, he’d had his phone off.

“What happened?” he demanded. “What’s wrong?”

Isaka pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Just. Come with me,” he said tightly.

Takano followed wordlessly as his superior all but sprinted out of the station, barreling right through innocent civilians in his haste. The whole way, Takano’s mind was racing. What had happened to Onodera? Had he collapsed again? Surely Isaka wouldn’t be so frantic if that was the case, though. Was he overreacting, about to be told that Onodera had simply made a mistake with one of his manuscripts or fucked up a deadline? No, Isaka wouldn’t bother getting personally involved if that was all it was—the Emerald team was rarely even on time, let alone early. So then what? What would be bad enough for Isaka to go to Takano’s train station and wait for him?

Why did his heart feel like it had been filled with lead and then frozen? 

A car was waiting for them outside, the doors already open, and the instant the men were inside Isaka ordered the driver to break every traffic law if he needed to. Takano barely had time to slam the passenger door shut before the car launched into traffic amidst a chorus of furious horns.

“Isaka, what’s going on?” Takano demanded.

“Do you actually want me to answer that?” Isaka said.

“What kind of question is that?!” Takano snapped. “Of course I do! Why else would I ask, dumbas—GAH!!”

The driver made a sharp left turn and flung Takano, who hadn’t bothered with his seatbelt, into the door. Hard. Isaka was apparently unfazed by the driver who thought he was in an action movie.

“Sorry,” the driver said. He didn’t slow down.

“Would someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!” Takano snarled.

Silence. Then:

“We’re almost there.”

“Isaka,” Takano growled.

The man in the back took a deep breath that seemed to last for several hours, and Takano was on the verge of leaping into the backseat and strangling the story out of the bastard. He knew the man had a proclivity for dramatics, but of all the times for him to display it, this was absolutely not one of them. Takano’s heart was already at its limit, and if Isaka strung him along much longer he was without a doubt going to suffer a heart attack.

“He was...he was still conscious when the hospital called,” the man said after an agonizingly long moment. “That was...maybe ten minutes before I picked you up?”

“What do you mean, _still_?” Takano’s voice was scarcely above a whisper, but it was as much volume as he could muster around the lump in his throat. “Why is he—why the hell is Onodera in the hospital?”

“When he was leaving work, he seemed kind of out of it,” Isaka said. “And he—he tried to cross the street, but…”

“ _But_?”

“There was a car. He didn’t—he didn’t see it, and it didn’t have time to stop…”

Takano’s stomach dropped.

“They stopped after. Got him out of the road,” Isaka continued, voice bordering on shaky. “I called an ambulance.”

“And—the hospital?” Takano prompted. “What did they say when they called? How is he?”

“They didn’t give me any details,” Isaka said helplessly. “They just—just said that…”

“ _What_?”

“They said that if there were people who wanted to see him…they needed to come. Now.”

“What the hell?” Takano demanded.

He couldn’t hear himself, though he was sure he’d spoken out loud. Was the car flipping? Why was everything around him spinning away and out from under his feet?

“What does that m—”

“He doesn’t have much time.”

For a moment, the only thing Takano could hear was an ocean roaring in his ears. The fingers clamped on his knees tightened, and the world that had been whirling senselessly around him threatened to fade away altogether.

No.

“That’s not possible.”

“Takano…”

No.

“Don’t fuck with me!”

“Takano, I would never make a joke like this.”

No.

“I was talking to him an hour ago!”

“I know.”

No.

“They just—those idiots probably made a mistake!”

“Takano, please…”

 _No_.

“He _can’t_ —”

“We’re here.”

Takano’s forehead nearly slammed into the dashboard when the driver came to a screaming halt in front of the hospital. It took him no time to recover, and he was out the door and sprinting up the stairs in an instant, Isaka hot on his heels. Unlike at the train station, people seemed to jump out of their way before they needed to shove them aside, and maybe it was because inside the hospital, people understood why you would run at a dead sprint in such narrow halls and crowded lobbies.

“Takano, wait!” Isaka shouted, catching a hold of Takano’s elbow in the hall, just below the sign with an arrow pointing toward the emergency room. “Just—wait a second.”

_No._

“Isaka, I—”

“You don’t even know where his room is.”

“Then _tell_ me.”

“I will after you let me talk.”

The look on the man’s face stopped the protest hanging on Takano’s lips and left him feeling cold all over. Isaka wasn’t the compassionate sort, and the soft expression he was giving Takano left him feeling sick to his stomach. He wrenched free of Isaka’s grip, but stood where he was, waiting.

“I’m not going in with you,” Isaka said quietly. “The others, Kisa and Hatori and everyone, they’re already here in the waiting room. They’ve…we’ve seen him already. I’m going to join them. You’ll want to be alone.”

Takano gritted his teeth and nodded silently. Isaka pressed his lips together, and Takano realized for the first time how pale he looked, how his hands were shaking slightly at his sides. He wasn’t acting calm because he _was_ calm; he was acting calm for Takano’s sake. This wasn’t easy for him either, but he knew it was going to be much worse for Takano, so he was trying to be steady.

The thought made Takano want to throw something at him.

“He’s in room 107,” Isaka said softly, pointing in the right direction. “It’ll be on the left. The staff knows you’re coming, so the door should be unlocked.”

“Okay.”

“And…” Isaka said, starting to turn away. “I think he tried to call you around the same time I did.”

Takano bowed his head, mute, then turned and ran for Onodera’s door.

The curtains were drawn over the hallway window and the door was tightly shut. It took Takano four tries to turn with handle with his trembling fingers, and even as it swung slowly open part of him wanted to turn around. He didn’t want to do it. If he went in there now, everything was over.

He took a deep, steadying breath. Staying in the hallway wouldn’t _help_ Onodera, and going into the room wouldn’t _hurt_ him, not any more than he already was. He needed to be in there. Onodera needed him.

“Onodera?” he said, stepping inside.

The overhead light was off, but the lamp by the hospital bed glowed dimly. The body on the bed shifted at the sound of his voice, and Takano hastily shut the door behind him before crossing to the chair at the side of the bed.

Takano’s throat closed at the sight that met his eyes. Not a single piece of Onodera was unscathed; bruises and cuts covered what parts of his body were left uncovered, and his right arm looked like someone had started to put it into a cast but finished halfway upon realizing how pointless it was. One of his eyes was swollen shut, blood drying at the inner corner, and an oxygen mask sat over his nose and mouth.

“Ta...kano…” the man murmured weakly.

“I’m here, Onodera,” he answered, reaching out to take his unbandaged hand. He flinched when he touched Onodera’s overheated skin, but laced their fingers together and squeezed tightly. “I’m here.”

Onodera’s lips twitched feebly, and the lump in Takano’s throat expanded. His eyes were dull, his lips dry and cracked, and his bangs were stuck to his forehead with a layer of sweat.

“So...rry,” Onodera rasped. His fingers twitched in Takano’s, and he thought that maybe he was trying to squeeze his hand back. Takano shook his head.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said, though his hoarse, shaky voice made the lie absolutely obvious, even to the oblivious man laying in front of him. “You’ll...you’ll be okay.”

A tiny, pathetic sound left Onodera, and Takano clenched his jaw when he realized it was a tiny laugh.

“You...such a...bad liar…” he said.

“That’s no way to talk to your boss.”

“Tch…”

Takano hesitated, then leaned forward, touching his forehead to their clasped hands. The hand in his, so small and too warm, scared him, and as much as he needed to touch Onodera he couldn’t let the man see his face when he did.

“Mmsorry…” Onodera mumbled. “Mutou’s manuscript…on my desk…”

“Are you—” he choked.

 _Stupid?_ he’d wanted to say. Who the fuck cared about some manuscript at a time like that? But he stopped himself. Onodera had always been like that, and Takano didn’t need to waste precious time asking something so pointless. Stupid, stupid Onodera was always the type to ignore the bigger problems in favor of the smaller ones, the things that were easier for him to manage.

Takano wouldn’t waste this moment with something so foolish. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Does it hurt?”

“You’re...joking...right?”

Takano closed his eyes, wishing he could smile at Onodera’s sarcasm or even get irritated with his lip. He lifted his head, hesitating briefly to brush his lips across Onodera’s knuckles before looking back up to meet the other man’s gaze. Strangely, Onodera offered no protest to the action, or even a passing comment.

“I thought I told you I wouldn’t let you leave me again,” Takano said.

Onodera’s throat convulsed, as if words were rising and falling just below the surface. His jaw worked spasmodically, and Takano thought he heard the sound of grinding teeth.

“Onodera…?” he said uneasily.

The other man hesitated, eyes falling to their hands.

“Why…” he mumbled.

Takano blinked.

“Why?” he echoed. “Why what?”

“Here…” Onodera said. “Why...you...here?”

It took him a moment to register what Onodera had said, but when he understood, anger flared in his chest.

“What do you mean, why am I here?” Takano demanded, looming over the bed. “I’m here because I love you, idiot!”

Onodera flinched, and Takano cringed inwardly at his lack of self-restraint. Wearily, he sat back down.

“If I’d known any sooner…” Takano said quietly. “I’d have...I would’ve already come...But I was on the train. Isaka was at the station when I got off.”

“Isaka?” Onodera repeated. “Why did he…”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Takano snapped. “You know why he picked me up.”

“I guess…”

They sat for a moment, the only noise in the room the whirring of the machines as they tried—and failed—to keep Onodera’s body going.

“Isaka said you tried to call me?” Takano said, unable to take the silence.

Onodera closed his eyes and leaned back on the bed, sighing wearily and wincing when the action strained lungs that were probably bruised, collapsed, and maybe punctured by ribs that had to have been broken.

“I did…” he answered. “I left...a message. You should...listen…”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you said?” Takano said with a frown.

Onodera pressed his lips together.

“I tried...I’ve tried to tell you,” Onodera said after a moment. “A couple times. How I feel. But you always...interrupt, and we mess...things up. I didn’t want...anything to...do with...you.”

“Onodera…”

“But I want...to explain,” Onodera said.

“Onodera,” Takano said again.

“I didn’t...I didn’t want to feel anything for you,” Onodera continued stubbornly. “After you molested me...forced yourself on me, I didn’t...I didn’t think I...would ever, ever care for you again. I was sure I’d never...forgive you. Or myself...for letting it happen”

“H-hey, Onodera. St—”

“Remember when...when you first said you were gonna...make me say ‘I love you...’again? My first...reaction was ‘over my cold...dead body’.” Onodera paused, chuckling weakly and then grimacing at the pain it caused him. Takano bit the inside of his cheek. “But my...my resolve was pathetic...and I kept...just dragging it out. And that...hurt you, too...I’m sorry.”

This—Takano didn’t want to do this now. He’d made mistakes, foolish and cruel mistakes, and he’d be punishing himself for them for the rest of his life. He knew that. But that wasn’t what he wanted to spend this time talking about.

“Onodera, that’s not—”

“I wanted to get away, but I couldn’t...couldn’t stand...or even think of...leaving you again.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

Takano pressed his lips together, eyes stinging with tears he wouldn’t shed in front of his love. He wouldn’t let Onodera see him break down, not here and not now, when he was in pain, probably scared and confused. There was no way he was going to cause Onodera more pain now.

“After what...happened,” Onodera said. “Ten years ago, I...became jaded. A cynic. I’m ashamed...but it...happened. When you said who...you were...I was horrified. I didn’t want...to remember. I’d given up, I didn’t...want to remember...my first...and last...love. Part of me...still hates myself...for what happened and...for not being able to...let go...after so long.”

“Onodera, stop.”

He did, looking over at Takano curiously and blinking when he found their faces inches apart. Takano reached up and grasped the respirator, tugging it off of Onodera’s battered face. A faint blush leaked into his cheeks, but it didn’t last, and when their mouths touched, he only gave a tiny noise of surprise. His lips were rough and dry beneath Takano’s, more chapped than even an editor could call normal, and Takano pulled back with his heart—no, with his entire body aching. Onodera stared at him for a long moment after. The mask hung around his neck, but neither of them bothered replacing it. There was no point, and they both knew that.

“I…I love you, Ritsu,” Takano said weakly, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. “Even if you really do hate me, I still love you.”

A bead of blood welled from the spot on Onodera’s lower lip where he was biting it. Without a word, he tugged pitifully on Takano’s hand, guiding him closer. Following his directions easily, Takano leaned over and gathered his frail, battered body in his arms, cradling him against his chest like a mother would her child. Onodera’s arms slid around his waist, his freezing hands curling slightly in the back of his jacket while he tucked his face into the crook of Takano’s neck.

“I don’t,” he mumbled, lips scratching against Takano’s collar.

“What?”

“I don’t...hate you.” It was but a breath, but Takano caught the words all the same and buried his face in Onodera’s hair, wishing he could hold him as tightly as he wanted.

“I love you,” Takano said again, voice breaking. “Ritsu, I’ll always love you.”

Onodera didn’t answer, and Takano’s breath caught in his throat. The fingers curled in his jacket went slack, and the arms around his waist fell away to land, listless on either side of them.

“Ritsu?”

He didn’t know why he bothered to say anything. Weak as it had been, Takano had felt Onodera’s breath as it ghosted across his neck and felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest, pressed as it was against his own. Both of those had stopped. Onodera couldn’t hear him.

“Ritsu,” he said again, arms tightening around the man in his arms. The moisture in his eyes overflowed then, streaking down his cheeks and soaking into Onodera’s hair. “Ritsu, you can’t leave me again.”

Really, what was he expecting? Onodera had never listened to him before. It wasn’t so surprising he wouldn’t this time.

Though it felt like ripping out his own heart, he pulled away, releasing Onodera’s body and laying it back on the bed. His eyes were half-closed and glassy, and the sight of them like that made bile rise in Takano’s throat.

With a shaky hand, Takano reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open and going straight to his messages. He had three: two from Isaka, and one from the hospital’s number. He dialed in and waited, fighting to keep his breathing even, to keep himself from completely losing it. He’d do that when he was shut safely in his apartment, well away from any and all eyes.

He deleted Isaka’s messages without listening, then held his phone up to his ear to play the third voicemail, heart in his throat. His hand was trembling so violently that it was a wonder he was able to hold the device at all.

The automated voice announced the new message, providing the timestamp that Takano neither wanted nor needed. There was a beep. Then:

_I—don’t really—know what to say—sorry. You always—yell—when I try to tell—something important—over the phone, but I—this time I don’t—have a choice._

Takano clenched his jaw, free hand curling into a fist at his hip.

_Takano, I’m sorry—for what happened ten years ago—for what—what’s been happening lately. I’ve hurt you a lot, and I—I can’t make it right. I’m sorry I’m—telling you this now, like this. But I don’t—I don’t think I can say it to your face. I’m weak, a coward. You always knew that—it shouldn’t surprise you. But I—I want to see you. One last time, please. I...I want to see the person I love._

_Sorry, Takano, but I—I love you. I always have._

The dial tone met his ears.

  
**Days until Onodera Ritsu falls in love: 0**


End file.
